


Shots full of shock

by NovemberWings



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Body Shots, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injections, M/M, Misunderstandings, Self-Hatred, Testosterone, Trans Male Character, Transgender Race, shots, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberWings/pseuds/NovemberWings
Summary: Racetrack was a boy. He knew he was.Racetrack also knew that he had to tell Spot about his gender soon... this wasn't how this was supposed to go.





	1. Chapter 1

Race rummaged through his little carry bag trying to locate his syringe. He carried this bag everywhere with him, it had a spare set of clothes, a library card, his money, his stolen cigars and his testosterone shots. It was everything he owned in the world, and while the testosterone shots were expensive and hard to find (dangerous at that) he needed them. It wasn’t a choice. He sat on the toilet seat in his boxers and shirt at the Brooklyn lodgings, he was staying with Spot.

Spot and him had a weird relationship. They were dating, but not dating. Like they would kiss, which was great, and cuddle sometimes, but they hadn’t said they had feelings for each other… They were kind of in this weird limbo where the other was afraid to make the next step, Race terrified, because the next step meant that he would have to tell Spot about him being trans… and that conversation was daunting. It could ruin everything they have. Spot could tell all of Brooklyn and that would cause problems for him, maybe even all of the Manhattan boys too. And then what if it got to Jack and the others… would he be kicked out of the other lodging. It just wasn’t something he wanted to do now… or ever really.

He always hated having to do his injections, but it had to be done. He had a slight tremor in his hand as the needle hovered over his thigh. He took a deep breath in and tried to relax before pushing the needle in. Just as he was about to pierce the skin the bathroom door swung open. Race’s head snapped up and stared open mouth shocked. He thought he had locked the door! But there was Spot standing in the doorway, who had also froze from shock. Race’s brain quickly put together how strange this would look, he was sitting half naked with a needle poised… how would he explain this…  
“Uh.” He started, very eloquent, “I can explain this!” He blurted out. That seemed to snap Spot out of his shock and an angry expression found his face. He darted forward and grabbed the needle before Race could pull back. Horror fell over Race as he saw Spot holding his testosterone. He couldn’t afford another if Spot broke it.  
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me! What you on? Can’t believe you waste your money on this!” He was so pissed, and Race was shaking. He didn’t know what to do to calm him down. “What is this!?” He demanded. Race’s smart mouth just ran away from him, along with all his words, leaving him a stuttering mess.  
“I… It’s hard ta explain. It’s… like…” Spot frowned even deeper and clenched his hand around the syringe tighter making his muscles bulge and it felt like Spot was squeezing his heart as panic overtook him.  
“I swear to GOD, Race, if you don’t explain, right now I swear I will break this thing in my goddamn fist.” His threat had venom seeping through every word that chilled Race to the core. He knew he would do it. Race panicked and threw himself at Spot’s feet and looked up at him from the floor, chest heaving with hyperventilation, brain foggy with white cold panic. Spot even looked surprised at Race’s reaction before remembering to be angry.  
“Please!” Race cried to him. “Please! I need it. Don’t! I can’t afford another. Please, Spot.” He was almost crying out of panic.  
“Are you that much of junkie!” Spot spat the words at him, making him close his eyes and cringe.  
“No!” He cried, “no, please just put it down, and I’ll explain everythin’. I promise.” There was a pause as Spot considered before slowly placing the syringe in the sink, almost making Race sob in relief.  
“You best start explain’ real fast, Racetrack.” Race nodded and started trying to calm his breathing. He sat in silence preparing what he was going to say, but when he opened his mouth all that flew out of the window.  
“I wasn’t born a boy!” As soon as the words were out he wanted to be sick. He had just fucked it up. Everything. Spot raised a surprised eyebrow, clearly not expecting that.  
“Wha?” He squeaked. Race took another breath.  
“The shots. I have ta take ‘em.” He could feel tears burning his eyes from behind. “I was born as a girl, but I know, I KNOW, Spot, that I’m a boy. The shots they is testosterone, and they make me like a boy.” Race felt tears roll down his face and he lowered his face to look at the ground. “Please don’t hate me…” He sounded pitiful, even to his own ears.

Spot slowly lowered himself into a crouch next to Race, but Race refused to look up. Afraid of what he would see on Spot’s face. Afraid of what Spot will see on his face. Afraid of being struck by someone he thought cared for him. He would get soaked for this, and he knew that the King of Brooklyn would be first in line with his cane to soak the guy who had lied, and humiliated him for weeks.  
“Race?” Race didn’t move at Spot’s gentle voice. “Racetrack.” This time his voice was more commanding, Race continued looking at the floor. He couldn’t do this. Spot reached forward and gently took Race’s face in both of his hands, making Race flinch back, expecting a soaking. “Race, relax, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He spoke as he tipped his head up to look at him. He saw confusion on Spot’s face, but no anger or malice like he had expected. “Race, I’m not gonna lie to ya, but I don’t really fully understand what’s goin’ on with this, and I would like for you to explain it when yous calmed down, kay?” Race nodded dumbly. “I only freaked so much ‘cause I thoughts you were taking some nasty drug. It’s medical right?” And Race nodded in return. “Okay. You finish up in here and come and talk to me in my room after. Yeah?” Race nodded. “Yeah?” Spot prompted gently.  
“Yeah?” He sniffled. Spot reached forward and ruffled Race’s hair, which he did a lot, but it made Race jump, making him feel immediately guilty when he felt Spot recoil very quickly. With that Spot left the bathroom closing the door behind him, and Race let out a little sob.


	2. Chapter 2

Race allowed himself to breath for a second on the floor, trying to stop his crying, but the tears wouldn’t cease. He shakily got to his feet his whole body trembling, his legs feeling like jelly. He made his way over to the sink and looked at his shot. It was fine. He breathed a sigh of relief. He gently took the shot and put it safely in a pocket in his bag and turned back around to the sink.

He cupped his hands and filled them with water before splashing water on his face a few times. He felt calmer, but he felt like he was going to vomit. He took another breath and scrubbed his face one more time before drying his face and hands. He pulled on his trousers, picked up his bag and put his hand on the door handle and paused. He took a steadying breath and opened the door.

When the door swung open to reveal the large room full of bunk beds he expected to see lots of faces staring at him with a mixture of anger, confusion and disgust – but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Boys were chatting and playing games. He pulled his cap lower over his face to hide his red rimmed eyes as he made his way through the beds and up the stairs to Spot Conlon’s personal room. He was very familiar with it, but right now he felt like he was walking to the executioner's room. The only thing he could do was concentrate on not letting his legs buckle underneath him.

Once he got to the top of the stairs and outside Spot’s door he gave a quiet knock. The door swung open immediately, making Race jump back in surprise.  
“Come in.” Spot beckoned Race in, who slowly shuffled into the room, while Spot closed the door behind him. They were alone again. Spot shifted, shuffling his feet, staring at the wooden floorboards. He had been in this room so many times, lying on the bed, staring out the window… but now he didn’t know what to do with himself, or rather, what he was allowed to do now…

Spot went and sat on the edge of the bed and patted the bed next to him, indicating for Race to sit there. Race hesitated before slowly sitting down next to him, stiffly, purposefully not touching him. He held his back straight and clasped his hands in his lap, which he stared intently at.  
“Aw, come on, Racer, how many times have ya been in ‘ere. Relax, everythin’ is fine.” Race took in a breath and nodded, but despite Spot’s comforting he couldn’t relax not with the conversation they were about to have. “Now, jus’ start explainin’” Race swallowed heavily and took a shaky breath, feeling his eyes burn.

“Well… the thing is, Spot, I… er…. I was born as a girl. And… um…. As- as I got olda I realised tha’ I ain’t a girl, and that I is a boy…” silence filled the room. “I get that’s confusin’…” He could feel tears start to stream down his face, but he made no sound. He let out another shaky breath and reached for his top button and started slowly unbuttoning his shirt. It took a while because his hands were shaking so much. Eventually, Spot gently put a hand over his trembling fingers.  
“Wait.” Race froze. He stopped breathing, he stared at the hand resting over his. “What you doin’?”  
“I is showing ya… my chest.” Race whispered. Spot nodded and stood. He moved in front of Race and kneeled in front of him. He softly moved Race’s hands away from his shirt, which he gripped together in his lap once again, and continued undoing Race’s shirt with a lot more efficiency. Once the first plaid shirt was peeled away he was left only in his white vest top, shivering. He let out a little sob, knowing that Spot was going to see his real body. Spot glanced up at his face from the floor, and for the first time Race made eye contact with Spot. Spot reached up and with a calloused thumb gently brushed away the tears from his face.  
“Yous okay, Racer. Just breath.” Race nodded and gipped the bottom hem of his vest and slowly pulled it over his head to reveal his chest tightly bound with strips of cloth. He had angry red marks where the fabric was cutting in tightly, and you could see how it was restricting his breathing, making it even more awkward that he was on the verge of a panic attack. He glanced up to Spot’s face and saw that Spot’s mouth had fallen open with shock. It wasn’t a surprise. Race reached back towards his vest top.

“I know I is ugly…” he sniffled a little, “I’m sorry I lied to ya.” He started pulling the top back on over his head, but Spot stood and grabbed the vest off him, throwing it back onto the bed. Race flinched. He knew this would happen. Spot was going to humiliate him, as if he wasn’t humiliated enough. Race circled his arms around his chest, covering himself up as much as he could, slowly bending over to hide his front. He let out a little sob. If he thought he was going to get a soaking before… “Please…” He whispered, “Please, give me my vest and I is gone. Yous will never see me again. I swear it. Jus’ don’t tell anyone… please…” He moved a hand to wipe at his face and cover his eyes, still trying to hide as much of his body as possible.

Spot suddenly stumbled back.  
“No!” He shouted, making Race flinch, “Racer, yous got me all wrong. You can have your shirt back, but yous gotta take off that fabric. It’s hurtin’ you!” Race knew it was hurting. It hurt all the time, cutting into his skin, it had made him bleed before and on the nights he couldn’t stay awake long enough to wait for everyone else to go to sleep before he unwrapped himself he had had to sleep in them. He let out a little sob making Spot deflate a little before moving to sit next to Race, their sides touching. Spot put a gentle arm around Race’s shoulders, rubbing his arm.  
“Race, I get that you don’t want to take it off… I’ll get ya a bigger shirt. Just for while we talk, yeah?” He looked a Race waiting for his answer. Race swallowed before giving a slight nod. Spot stood and went into the cupboard where he kept clothes for all the boys if someone’s got ruined. He picked out a large top. He walked over to Race and handed him the shirt and saw Race hesitate, he didn’t want Spot to see. “Oh! Right!” Spot said as he spun to face the wall making Race’s body flood with relief. He glanced down to his chest and started pulling at the series of knots that were holding the fabric tightly in place. His hands were shaking but he managed it eventually. He took in a deep breath when the fabric fell around his waist, and Jesus did that feel good. It calmed him down a little too. As quickly as he could he pulled on the large shirt and buttoned it up all the way to the top.  
“Okay.” He said and Race spun round.  
“You feel better?” Race gave a little nod.  
“Thank you.” He took another deep breath but Spot waved him off.  
“Don’t worry about it.” Spot resumed his place next to Race on the bed. He paused for a minute clearly thinking. “So's… this like… a thing? Other people have this too, where they is born in the wrong body?” He sounded curious, maybe even a little worried. “Do you know if any of my boys is like you? Are they hurtin’ too?” Race shrugged.  
“When I spoke to a doctor he said others were like me, but not many. I don’t know anyone…” Spot nodded, they sat in silence once again.  
“So… what’s the shot?” Spot asked.  
“It’s something called testosterone. It’s a boy hormone, and it makes my voice deeper… and other stuff. I have to take it.” Spot put his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands.  
“Jeez, Racer, I is so sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you like that…” Spot sounded distraught.  
“I knows.” Race felt bad for upsetting Spot, he didn’t want this conversation to go like this. There was slight hesitation from Spot and Race could tell the next thing he was going to say was going to be heavy.  
“Racetrack… I’s need you to know that I wouldn’t hurt you. Ever…” Race froze, he wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting Spot to tell him to leave, he didn’t know what to say to that, because he had thought Spot was going to hurt him. “an’ I’m not going to tell anyone neither. Not my story to tell.” He glanced at Race, who was staring at him, shocked. Spot took a deep breath, looking Race in the eye. “Race… This doesn’t change how much I like you neither. I still want to date ya, so if that’s what yous thinkin’ that this,” he motioned between them, “is over it ain’t unless you want it to be?”

Race felt his mouth fall open. He didn’t know what to say. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.  
“Don’t look at me like that, Racer!” Spot protested, “Don’t look so shocked. ‘Course I wasn’t gonna tell nobody.”  
“You said we’re dating.” Race choked out of his tight throat. He saw Spot’s face go white as he replayed what he had said in his head, he looked equally as shocked when he realised, mouth gaping open and closed like fish. Race realised for a moment how adorable it was that Spot had gotten so flustered about what he had said.  
“I… I mean… eugh… well that is…” He tried to formulate his words before Race couldn’t take it anymore and a laugh burst out of his throat, shocking them both. Spot blushed but grinned before gently hitting Race’s arm with the back of his hand, making Race play hurt and rub at his arm. Spot rolled his eyes. Race hesitated for a moment before leaning over and carefully placing a tentative kiss on Spot’s cheek.  
“I like you too, Spotty.” He smiled feeling the tear tracks on his cheeks. Spot grinned and grabbed Race’s face in his two hands and met him for a kiss. The kiss was passionate but gentle. They pulled apart and looked at each other for a second before Race sighed and leaned into Spot and wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his head in his chest. Spot circled his shoulders with his big arms and rested his chin on the top of Race’s head. They sat like that for a minute before Race spoke into his chest  
“I was really scared, Spotty…”  
“I knows you was. I’m sorry, Racer.” He moved his hand to Race’s hands and started playing with his hair. “I get whys you didn’t say nothing.” Race suddenly felt guilty.  
“It’s not that I didn’t trust you, Spot. I just didn’t want… this… to ruin anything. Or change anything…”  
“I know.” Spot said, “but Race, you gotta know, this don’t change anything. I promise. If ya want you can sleep here, in my room, more if you want to. You can take your bandages off around me too… you’ll never change in my eyes, Racetrack.” Race sniffled and felt his heart warm, he never thought he would be accepted like this.

Spot gently tapped his back, indicating to Race to sit up, which he did reluctantly. Spot reached forward and once again brushed freshly formed tears away. “Now. No more tears.” Race nodded. “Yous gonna do your injection in here and I’m gonna get a book and a pack of cards. Then I’ll come back and we is going to play or read. And then we’ll cuddle, and you is gonna stay the night. Sound good?”

Race gave a tear filled chuckle and nodded. That sounded perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! My first Newsies fic, and oh my god I actually had so much fun writing this. More fun than a lot of my other fanfictions. Ghaaa! I really hope you like it.  
> Please leave a comment it really feels great to hear feedback!  
> Thanks very much!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I'm very new to the Newsies fandom and this is my first work, so if anyone has any advice on how to write the accent I'd be very thankful.  
> Comments make my day!


End file.
